The Awakening
by strange-charmed
Summary: Rose Tyler awakens in the hospital from a coma, and a certain pinstriped Doctor tells her he has never seen her before ...
1. Chapter 1

"Did you see that? She just moved her hand! Can you hear us?"

"Finally! Honey, open your eyes, Rosie, open them!"

"I'll go fetch the doctor – she's waking up!"

Rose heard the voices – a man and a woman – and a machine beeping in the background. Blimey, she was tired. She shook her head slightly, silently willing the voices to stop so that she could go back to sleep. _Wait a minute. _Sleep – had she been sleeping? She couldn't remember … how the hell had she fallen asleep? Where was the Doctor? She and the Doctor had been taking a walk in the Anti-Gravity Gardens on Naija 6, feeding … some kind of tiny intergalactic creature that looked remarkably like a squirrel.

Panic suddenly set in as she realized she had no idea where she was, or how she'd fallen asleep. Or who these people were. _Nobody calls me_ _Rosie …_

_Oh my God, where am I?_ she thought, eyes flying open and quickly surveying the room around her. She was lying in a bed – it looked like a hospital bed, and she was covered by a thin blue blanket and a starchy white sheet. There was an intravenous needle sticking very painfully into her left hand, connected to some sort of medication bag. _Did I have an accident? Where's the Doctor? Have I been drugged?_ Someone was holding her right hand, stroking it. She flicked her eyes over to the man seated at the right side of her bed, thinking it must be the D –

Her heart dropped into her stomach.

"D – dad?" Rose whispered raspily, barely getting the word out. Her mouth was so dry she could barely open it. Her lips were chapped and almost seemed stuck together like they hadn't been used in a while. "Dad?"

Time seemed to slow down as the realization hit her. _It can't be, it just can't be – I must be dreaming, or going mad, or …_

Pete Tyler grabbed her hand, a smile etched with heartbreak on his face. He looked completely overjoyed, and yet somehow grief-stricken at the same time. He looked so much _older_ than she remembered seeing him – he looked almost as old as the Pete Tyler from the parallel world, except without the expensive suit. For a moment she thought it might be that other Pete, but she quickly dismissed the thought: he had never looked at her with the fondness that this man was. His face was haggard and unshaven, like he hadn't slept in days. Tears began to well at the corners of his eyes. "I'm here, baby. I'm here. Everything's going to be OK now."

_Dad, you shouldn't be here …_

Tears crept up into Rose's eyes too as she grabbed his hand and clutched it tightly. She bit her lip, hard enough to almost draw blood, trying to stave off the panic beginning to set in. She loved her dad, she wanted him here … but this was wrong. She heard the beeping on the nearby machine speed up, matching the beat of her increasing heart rate. This couldn't be happening. Was this a paradox? _Oh God no. _Had she done something horrible and brought him back to life again? _No no no … _She had seen her father die – held him in her arms as he died. The world had almost ended because of the paradox created when she saved his life.

"Dad? Where's … where's the Doctor?" Rose asked, trying to keep her voice deliberately calm and steady. And failing badly, even to her own ears. _This is BAD. _She gripped Pete's hand tightly. He shouldn't be here – but that didn't mean she wanted to let go of him.

"He's coming, baby, just hold on tight." Pete's eyes darted to the beeping machine, alarmed, and then back to Rose's face. "Just … just calm down, angel. He'll be here soon."

Pete stroked her hand gently, trying to give her a comforting smile though his tears, and Rose gave him a tight smile back. Even though she couldn't – shouldn't – believe he was here with her, she opened her arms, and Pete fell into her embrace. The last of his calm resolve faded as he collapsed into sobs against his daughter's shoulder.

"I wasn't sure you were ever going to wake up. I'm sorry, I'm sorry … I just …" Pete said as he pulled away from the hug. He swiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his wrinkled grey jumper, then kissed Rose tenderly on the forehead, regaining his composure. "I don't know what I'd do without you. I love you so much, Rose, I –"

"I love you too, Dad," Rose said, choking out the words through her own tears, now flowing freely down her cheeks. She drew him back into a hug and they clung together through their tears. She hugged him tighter – this could end at any moment, he'd be dead, and she'd never see him again. She took a shaky breath.

"Dad? Where's the Doc –"

The door to her hospital room burst open, and in strode the man she was waiting for, all spiky hair and pinstriped suit and Converse and … _a lab coat? _ She couldn't hold back a smile even though she had no idea what was going on – she was so relieved to see him! Had something happened to her? Was any of this her fault? If anyone knew, it would be the Doctor. He flashed her a brilliant grin as he approached her bed and leaned down over her. _Knowing him, maybe he even has it sorted already …_

"Rose Tyler!" he whispered, his smile permeating the tone of his voice and infusing it with the warmth and fondness she had grown to crave in her months of travel with this new-new him. "You had us worried there for a while!"

"Blimey, you're one to talk! Had me pretty worried there, too!" Rose gushed, her smile growing as her heart sped up even faster out of sheer relief and joy. He could turn her world around just by looking at her like that … "What – what happened, Doctor? The last thing I remember – "

Something in his eyes changed. They became less joyful, more … serious.

"There's time for that later. First, I need to make sure you're alright. You've been in a coma for almost two years," he said softly, his smile fading completely. Rose stared at him … _What's he playing at?_, she thought.She couldn't read the expression on his face for any explanation: he looked … impassive. "Mr. Tyler, can you give us a moment please?" the Doctor said.

Pete hesitated, still gripping his daughter's hand. At her nod, he rose from his chair, almost hesitant, and nodded his head.

"I'll be right outside, love," he said, giving Rose one last squeeze and nodding to the Doctor as he made his way into the hallway, his eyes fixed on Rose with a relieved smile until he was out the door.

The door clicked shut behind him. Rose was left alone with the Doctor.

She wasted no time, lurching up to a sitting position and grabbing the Doctor's hands tightly with both of hers, pain from the IV in her hand be damned. The Doctor seemed startled by her action, his posture stiffening in response. _In a coma for two years? He has to be making that up as some kind of a lunatic cover story …_ Rose tried to ignore the panic that was starting to set in again in her stomach. Something about the look in the Doctor's eyes was making her very uneasy. He had never looked at her with such a detached gaze before … and he had never tensed up like that when she took his hand.

"OK. OK. He's gone. Doctor, what's going on? This is scaring me. The last thing I remember, we had left the TARDIS in the courtyard of that Crespallion palace and spent the day in the Anti-Gravity Gardens on Naija 6. We just fed that … that … squirrel-thing, and we went for a walk, and you were making some sort of a joke, and … and the next thing I know, I'm here. What happened to me? Two years – you're just saying that, right? It seems like minutes ago! That's just another joke … right?"

The Doctor paused, staring at her. He opened his mouth slowly, as if trying to choose the perfect words to say.

Rose held her breath and willed herself to remain calm. This couldn't be good, whatever it was. Her Doctor was never at a loss for words.

"Miss … Tyler. I think there's some confusion. You had an accident two years ago that put you in a coma. My name is Doctor John Smith. We haven't met before today – I'm your neurologist. I'm only … your doctor. That's all I am – I'm your doctor."


	2. Chapter 2

Rose stared at Doctor John Smith for a long moment, still grasping his hands with her own. He looked back down at her with a mixture of concern and pity. If it weren't for the knot in her stomach and her pounding heartbeat, she would have sworn that this had to be a dream.

"That's not funny," she said, her voice a barely audible whisper.

"I'm not trying to be funny," he replied softly, quickly.

They stared at each other in stony silence for several more moments, until Rose couldn't bear meeting his pained expression any longer. She closed her eyes then looked down at their joined hands as frustrated tears began to brim behind her eyelids. She still held his hands in both of her own, and stared at them numbly as he extracted himself from her clasp. Her empty hands dropped down onto the unfamiliar blue blanket, and she felt the little fabric pills under her fingers as she stroked them unconsciously with her thumb. _This can't be happening_, she thought, _it can't! _

The doctor slid his hands into his pinstriped trouser pockets – a stance she knew so well. The familiarity of the posture on this … this … _stranger_ made Rose feel like her heart was being wrenched in half. She struggled to control a sob that was threatening to rise up from her chest – there was no way she could bring herself to look up to meet his sympathetic gaze again. The knot in her stomach grew bigger, and bigger, and churned away, seeming to slowly eat her from the inside until she felt she was going to burst. Suddenly, her eyes snapped up to meet his own, and the doctor swallowed hard under her sharp stare.

"Where is he? What have you done with him? He wouldn't do this to me. I know him! He _wouldn't_. He would _never_ do this to me!" she whispered, half desperate and half defiant.

Something flickered in the doctor's eyes, and his jaw clenched almost imperceptibly as his expression changed, almost softening. He took an involuntary step towards her, and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Rose …" he said gently, and she blinked back tears as she stiffened under his touch, and shook her head, willing this imposter away and her Doctor back. He felt so familiar – his _voice_ was so familiar – that she could no longer hold back tears. He sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand into his own, looking at her regretfully. His mouth opened as if he were about to say something else, when the door to her hospital room swung open one more time, and in walked a young woman Rose had never seen before.

The first thing Rose noticed were her eyes, violet and hauntingly lovely. Rose couldn't help but stare at her, transfixed for a moment. Her hair was almost black, and curled softly around her shoulders. In contrast, her skin was almost translucently pale and stood out against her dark hair and violet eyes to give her an almost unspeakably beautiful glow. Judging by her crisp white attire, she appeared to be some sort of a nurse, Rose thought.

"There you are!" the girl with the violet eyes said to the doctor, with an uneasy smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Thought I'd find you here. I hoped you'd wait for me, though."

Rose looked her up and down. "Who are you?" she asked.

The girl with the violet eyes turned towards Rose, a small but more genuine smile on her face. "Why, hello!" she said. "Glad to see you're awake. I'm –"

"Faith," the doctor interrupted, gently. His eyes, full of sympathy, were still trained on Rose.

"I'm his … assistant," the girl with the violet eyes finished.

"His _assistant_?" Rose interjected weakly, as her stomach gave an involuntary twist.

"Rose has been having visions," the doctor said, turning his body around towards the girl. "Of traveling with me. And walking in a garden on a planet called Naija 6 just a few minutes ago. She's convinced that it happened, and that it's real."

The girl with the violet eyes raised her eyebrows and looked from Rose to the doctor, then back to Rose. She stepped towards Rose with a gently concerned look on her face.

"Dreams in coma patients are common, Miss Tyler," she said, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Even though a patient is in a coma, they can still hear the world around them. It's not uncommon for patients to bring a bit of that into their dreams, so that the real world becomes part of the dream, too. It can feel very real. But I can assure you, the doctor and I have been working here at the hospital as long as you've been here, at least. It can be a bit disorienting, I know – but they were just dreams. _This _is real."

Rose turned her head back towards the doctor. For the first time in several minutes, she felt she had composure enough to look him directly in the eye. She took a shaky breath.

"Is that true?" Rose asked the doctor in barely more than a whisper, her voice faltering only slightly.

The doctor held her gaze, sadly, almost ruefully. "Yes," he said quietly.

Rose's eyes flicked down to the name badge on his white coat: _Dr. John Smith, Neurologist, Royal Hope Hospital, London._ Her gaze moved to his pinstriped suit, slightly wrinkled and so familiar. He was wearing a light blue shirt – and a brown tie with dark blue boxes inside a geometric pattern.

She had bought that tie for the Doctor. She _knew_ she had bought him that tie. She had picked it out herself and given it to him as a late Christmas present after his regeneration. The little boxes on it were TARDIS blue, and she had known he would love it the moment she first saw it in a shop. He wore it all the time. She'd watch him knot it this morning – the knot was messy, she'd interrupted him when he was tying it this morning, and he hadn't bothered to fix it. The TARDIS pantry had been out of his favorite biscuits, and she had interrupted him to ask if he wanted cereal for breakfast instead. Apple Jacks, he'd replied. She'd teased him about being 900 years old and still not able to tie his tie properly. She'd given the knot a little yank to center it better, and beamed up at him. He had look down at her, and smiled that brilliant, big grin of his, and …

"I don't believe you," she said softly.

"Rose –" the doctor said quietly yet firmly.

"I don't believe you," she said, her voice stronger with conviction.

"It's OK, it will take time –" said the girl with the violet eyes.

"Both of you! I just can't even –" Rose said, louder, tears beginning to leak into her eyes again. She hadn't even noticed the door opening again, and Pete standing in the doorway.

"Please, Rose –" the doctor said, gently.

"I think you'd better go now," Pete said, walking up to the bed, his voice firm. "She needs rest, not to – not to get upset like this."

"Mr. Tyler –" the doctor started, but Pete held up his hands to interrupt.

"Now, please. Both of you," Pete said, nodding at them.

The girl with the violet eyes moved reluctantly away from Rose's bedside and towards the door. The doctor followed, slowly, finally removing his hand from over Rose's. She shivered slightly at the lack of contact, and closed her eyes – she had no idea who he was anymore or why this was happening, but she knew she couldn't bear watching him walk away from her. The door clicked shut before she opened her eyes again to see Pete, standing by the bed. Tears sprang freely to her eyes once again.

"Dad …?" she whispered.

Pete moved quickly to her side, sitting next to her on the bed and gathering her into a protective embrace, slowly rocking her as she hugged him tightly, sobbing into his shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

Doctor Smith leaned back against the corridor wall outside Rose's hospital room, arms crossed, gently thunking his head against the wall as he stared off into space. Although the sound was muffled from the other side of the door, he could still hear Rose crying. A dark expression clouded his face. The girl with the violet eyes stood across from him, her arms tightly crossed as well, regarding his pained look.

"Are you alright?" she asked, hesitant.

The doctor gave her a small attempt at a smile.

"Always," he said. "I just – well, I wasn't expecting that." He sighed and closed his eyes tightly, uncrossing his arms only to sweep a hand across his face.

A quizzical look momentarily flickered across her face, before she noticed how completely rattled the doctor looked, and her expression softened into something more conciliatory. She took a small step in his direction, moving her arm slightly towards him, considering whether to put her hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort. Very quickly, she decided against it – they weren't exactly friends, or even peers, after all.

"I'm – I'm sorry that was hard for you. It will get easier for her, though," she reassured him. "She'll be OK."

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and glanced up at her to give her a wary look. Faith met his gaze, a tiny but confident smile steady on her face, and nodded to emphasize her statement. Sighing, he looked her up and down, then looked away. Her gaze held steady on him, not looking away.

"She asked me '_what have you done with him_?', like she thought I could ever have –" the doctor started.

He cut himself off abruptly, startled to feel her hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her, as she looked back at him almost pityingly.

"I'll wait here for Pete Tyler," she said gently. "Go get some tea, clear your head."

He closed his eyes, considering the offer. The sound was softer now but he could still hear Rose crying from the other side of the wall. He squeezed his eyes closed just a little tighter.

"Doctor Smith," she said, interrupting his thoughts. "My job is to help you."

She took a step towards him and looked up at him intently, violet eyes almost flashing.

"So let me help," she said simply, her mouth quirking with a small, encouraging smile.

He didn't nod, or smile, or say anything to her in response. Rather, he swallowed hard and turned away, striding down the long hospital corridor toward the staff kitchen. The farther he got from Rose's hospital room, the more he noticed that the muffled crying sounds started to fade completely away into silence.

He picked up his pace, walking faster.

-o-o-

It was a good five minutes before Rose's room was completely quiet. Faith stood in the hallway as she had promised Doctor Smith, waiting patiently as she leaned back against the wall, ankles crossed, arms folded over her lean torso. She closed her eyes, lost in thought about the odd case of Rose Tyler. She had been honest with Doctor Smith, and thought that the girl would recover – well, at least she _hoped_ so. Faith was good at her job – experienced, too – but she had never seen a situation quite like this one before. _Taking a walk through a garden – a garden! – on a planet called Naija 6, indeed!,_ she thought, shaking her head in consternation at the absurdity of the statement.

Finally the door to Rose's room opened, and Pete Tyler walked out, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. He gave Faith a hesitant and slightly uncomfortable smile as he approached her, still obviously feeling awkward from their previous encounter.

"How is she?" Faith asked with a gentle smile, pushing up to a standing position.

"Better," Pete said, looking at Faith almost accusingly before glancing back over his shoulder at the door. "She's resting now. I told her I would grab a few of her things from home and come back with them. I hate to leave her, but –"

She nodded approvingly. "No, it's a good idea, Mr. Tyler. Anything you have that may be familiar to her – stuffed animals, photo albums, things like that. Coma patients can sometimes be a little disoriented when they wake up, and seeing familiar items can make things a little easier for them. In fact, Rose was having some sort of a hallucination just after she woke up. About Doctor Smith and being on some alien planet."

Pete looked completely taken aback.

"She was just having a dream – it's actually not as rare as you'd think," Faith continued quickly, trying to calm Pete's anxious look. "She'll be fine. She's just a bit disoriented right now, it was hard for her to tell the difference between reality and fantasy as soon as she woke up. That's why she got so upset when we were with her before. I was just about to send her down for some tests."

On cue, Faith waved to a petite, middle-aged blonde nurse approaching the nurse's station down the hall.

"Do you mind sending an orderly to bring Miss Tyler down to radiology?"

"Of course, I'll send one right over," the nurse said as she nodded back, her blonde ponytail bobbing with the motion. She smiled brightly as she noticed Pete standing slightly behind Faith. "Why hello there, handsome – we're all so happy that Rose finally woke up! You must be thrilled to bits!"

Pete blushed slightly, but nodded his head and smiled back shyly at the nurse, who gave him a coy little wink before continuing on with her work. She had always been so nice to him, flirtatious even. She wore a bit too much eye makeup, Pete thought, but despite that, she almost reminded him of … _well, no use thinking of that now_, Pete shrugged, bidding goodbye to both the nurse and Faith and heading home to retrieve Rose's belongings.

-o-o-

Rose sighed deeply and closed her eyes, rubbing them with the heels of her hands. It was the first time she'd been alone since she'd woken up, and although she'd felt guilty coming up with an excuse to send Pete away, she needed time to think. She thought she'd cried herself out - at least for now – and she needed some time to think. Well, to _try _to think – today had been so surreal that she wasn't sure _what_ to think anymore.

_I have a Dad who can't be my Dad, a doctor who says he's not my Doctor … and I'm apparently a coma patient in a hospital_, she thought. Any one of those things would have sent her reeling. But taken all together, she felt completely lost. And the Doctor - _is he alone, too? Where is he?_ _Is he still on Naija 6? _She struggled to think of the last thing she could remember before waking up - it felt like such a blur. _We were walking in the gardens and then -_

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She closed her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

"Come in?" she said weakly as the door creaked open.

Any possibility of shocking her further today was long since gone. She felt emotionally and mentally tapped out. Physically, she was cried out and had no more tears to shed. So as it was, she just stared, almost numbly, at the smiling face of Mickey Smith as he peered around the doorway.

"If you were gonna play at Sleeping Beauty, you could at least have let me kiss you awake."

"Mickey …" she said softly.

"The one and only!" he said with a grin, plopping himself down in the chair beside her. "How are you feeling, babe?"

_Babe, he called me babe …_ Rose inhaled deeply. Yet another thing that felt so familiar. Before she'd driven him away, before Pete's World, she could remember him using that endearment with her hundreds of times in the past, both when they were friends and later when they started dating.

Then again, she could remember a _lot_ of familiar things that people were telling her never actually happened. And Mickey appeared to be wearing hospital scrubs, which wasn't a good sign that he was the Mickey she remembered. Still – maybe he knew something. She had to try.

"Mickey … you know me?"

A look of surprise crossed his face.

"Uh … since you were a baby, Rose."

"You and me, Powell Estates, tea at your grandma Rita-Anne's, drinks at Shareen's when her parents were away, Jimmy Stone …"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, and I'd like to forget him but yeah – what are you bringing up him for, anyway?"

"… the Doctor?"

Mickey paused.

"Rose, you're my best mate. I know you better than I know anyone, and you know me better than anyone too. What's this about?"

"Mickey … do you remember: when's the first time you met the Doctor? I mean … my Doctor?"

A shadow fell over his face, and his big grin fell completely away.

"I'll never forget, Rose. I first met him the day your shop blew up. Henrik's, yeah? Scariest night of my life, that was. You were nearly killed by the blast. It took them hours to dig you out. I first met Doctor Smith that night, when you were admitted. You've been asleep ever since."


	4. Chapter 4

**I've been asked if this fic is a dream sequence - I want to assure you that it is NOT a dream, I wouldn't do that to you guys! 100% promised! I usually don't want to answer plot questions since ... well, this fic is very "plotty" and I don't want to spoil it, but I wanted to assure you all that I'm not going to do something like pull the "it was all a dream!" card on you =) Just a clarification because I know that at least a couple of people had questions/concerns about that! =)**

* * *

><p>Rose stared at him blankly, until her eyes felt so dry that she couldn't keep them focused anymore. Blinking furiously, she glanced away from Mickey, who was still slouched in his chair with a serious expression on his face, looking at her like he thought she might disappear at any minute. She couldn't meet his eyes, and she didn't want to have to say anything in response. She stared at the ugly blue curtains covering her hospital room window; they were something neutral to look at, and she needed to think.<p>

_Think! _

Rose's mind started racing, desperately trying to make sense of how any of this could be true. She had forgotten so much about Henrik's – it seemed like it was a lifetime ago. A stranger's lifetime, even. She could barely remember what it had felt like to work there – to live her life linearly, day after day. The daily rituals of her old life had paled in comparison to being with the Doctor, and she hadn't given a moment's thought about working at the store in longer than she could remember.

She had run so fast and so far since then.

Her life as a shopgirl felt like a distant and vague memory she was desperately struggling to recall, almost like it had never happened. _Henrik's exploded, at least I remember that part_ … _but I wasn't in the store when it happened. This doesn't make any sense!_

"We weren't sure you were gonna wake up, Rose," Mickey said softly, gently reaching over to take her hand.

She had no idea how to react to him, her mind was still churning with half-memories of Henrik's, of Naija 6, of _everything_ it seemed. Unconsciously, she gave his hand a brief squeeze back, still staring at the window.

"Henrick's, yeah? When did it explode? I mean the day," she asked, quickly changing the subject back to the store.

_March 26, that's the day I met him,_ she thought. _That's the day he blew up my shop. _

"March 26," Mickey said, as Rose sucked in a breath of relief at the familiarity. _OK, good – it's a start at least_, she thought. _Maybe I can retrace the Doctor's steps and find –_

"It was all because of a gas line."

"What?" she said as her head jerked towards him, her eyes widening slightly. "No …"

Mickey gave a small nod as he looked down, stroking small circles on the back of her hand.

"The police did an investigation and everything, Rose. The explosion took out your entire building. They said it was a miracle you were still alive. Your dad and me, we came down as soon as we heard about it, you have no idea how scared I –"

_Wait, _she thought. _Just my dad and Mickey? That doesn't make sense. What about –_

"And my mum?" she asked, her voice sounding a little tighter and more scared than she meant it to. "Mickey, _what about my mum_?"

She was startled by the realization that she was gripping his hand tighter, skin stretched taut over her white knuckles as her fingers tightened. Mickey stopped midsentence and stared down at her, his face perfectly still and his mouth still slightly open. He looked almost surprised by the question, as if it were the daftest thing in the world for her to ask. He broke his gaze from her face, clearly uncomfortable, and his eyes drifted up to examine the curtains on the window, as well. He swallowed and Rose felt her stomach drop for what felt like the hundredth time.

All of this felt so wrong – was so wrong. _Mum's ok, of course she is! The Doctor and I stopped to see her only last week … right?_ Rose swallowed hard.

"Mickey …"

Suddenly, her hospital room door swung open yet again, and Rose's heart leapt as a female voice intoned:

"Oi, Mickey, you in there? Radiology was expecting her ten minutes ago! We were about to send another orderly in here, til I remembered it was you and –"

An achingly familiar blonde ponytailed head peeked around the half open door, her annoyed expression breaking into a wide smile as soon as she saw Rose.

"Rose! How are you feeling, love? Your dad has been beside himself, you know that? Every day, here at your side – two years now! I saw him on his way out, a bit ago. He is thrilled to bits! Do you need anything, love? Anything at all?"

Rose gaped. She had never before experienced the odd sensation of all emotion draining out of her - all _energy_ draining out of her, for that matter. But this – this was too much. Her racing mind quieted down, immediately. There was no thought - no emotion - that could possibly eclipse the empty void that was opening inside her, effacing all else.

She was only able to stare, completely transfixed.

The expression on Mickey's face was a combination of relief and gratitude. He gave a small smile to the woman, nodding his head quickly.

"Sure thing, Jackie, sorry about that, I'll take her down right –"

"No!" Rose interrupted quickly.

She nodded at Jackie.

"I mean – yes, I need something. I don't want to go now, but can you … stay here a minute?"

Looking a little wounded, Mickey looked down at Rose. He gave a quick half smile, kissed her hair, and then turned to leave without saying a word. With a slight pang, she suddenly realized she'd probably hurt his feelings. _Again. _It hadn't even been a month since she'd been heartsick to leave him in Pete's World, yet here he was, already relegated to being the Tin Dog again, in less than ten minutes. Rose swallowed. She couldn't think about that, she needed –

"Are you feeling OK, sweetheart?"

"Are you … my –"

"Nurse," Jackie finished with a smile.

Rose shuddered as she drew in a shaky breath, biting her lip and unable to look away from her … nurse.

_Nurse?_

"Are you in any pain? Do you need something, love?"

_Mum, I'm fine!_

"No, no – I just need …" Rose started.

_Oh my God, you're not my mum, are you ..._

"I don't even know," Rose whispered, a stricken expression passing over her face.

Frowning slightly, Jackie slowly approached the bed, reaching out a hand to gently smooth Rose's hair in a gesture of comfort.

… _mum stroked my hair just like that. She said it's how she used to get me to sleep at night … _

"It'll all be OK, love. You've just woken up - you need time to rest. We'll just tell those doctors to stuff it til tomorrow, and let you be for a bit. You'll be right as rain soon."

_... but …_

Rose closed her eyes with a jagged sigh, just concentrating on the familiarity of the gesture, the hand stroking her hair, the voice.

"You said … you said I've been here two years? Are you sure?"

Rose turned her eyes beseechingly up at Jackie. Jackie looked down at her, still gently stroking her hair, and nodded slowly, looking slightly concerned.

"I just … I can't make sense of anything right now. Everything's upside down, and nothing's the way I remember it, and my … my friend, I don't know where he is, he's _gone –"_

Rose's voice cracked slightly on the last word, and Jackie's brow furrowed in concern. She sat down on the edge of Rose's bed.

"It'll turn out alright, sweetheart. Come here," Jackie said softly, opening her arms.

Rose melted into Jackie's arms, burying her head into Jackie's shoulder. The starchy white collar of Jackie's nurse uniform felt so _wrong_ rubbing up against Rose's cheek; her mum didn't even own a shirt like that. Somewhat to her surprise, Rose found she didn't care; it didn't matter. Just for now – she found it didn't matter, at all. The smell of Jackie's perfume and makeup and even the fabric softener she used felt so _right_. Rose willed her mind to stop thinking, stop racing. She let herself relax slightly as she let out a small, soft sigh against Jackie's shoulder. She closed her eyes and let the comforting familiarity wash over her as Jackie stroked her hair, murmuring words of comfort.


	5. Chapter 5

Jackie stayed at Rose's bedside for several minutes, hugging the girl. It was longer than she normally stayed with patients, but something about the look of despair on Rose's face, and the way she snuggled into Jackie's shoulder, pulled at her heart in a way she couldn't quite explain. She wasn't sure what possessed her to kiss Rose's forehead. But as she stroked the girl's blonde hair, smoothing the flyaway strands, she brought her lips to the girl's head for the briefest of moments before slowly releasing her from the hug and rising to a stand, smiling down at her and giving her hand a quick squeeze.

"Promise me you'll get some rest, dear."

Rose merely nodded, closing her eyes for a short moment, still savoring the familiarity of Jackie's voice, her touch … of everything that _mattered_, really. Rose's hand still loosely held Jackie's, and although she was well aware Jackie would untwine her fingers at any moment, she wanted to feel connected to her for as long as possible. _Mum would stay here with me …_

Jackie smiled comfortingly at her one last time and removed her hand from Rose's, before turning to leave and clicking the door softly shut behind her.

Rose exhaled slowly. God, she wanted her mum. And whoever this Jackie was … just for this moment, it had been good enough. Good enough to clear Rose's head, at least.

_Think!_

She rolled over as best as she could without disturbing the IV tubes and monitors entangling her, and hugged her pillow tightly to the side of her head. She stretched her back, feeling a slightly uncomfortable twinge from her lack of mobility over the past few hours. It was hard to find a good position that felt natural, like sleeping on a strange new mattress.

_Think, _she told herself. _Retrace your steps, there has to be something you're not remembering …_ Rose sighed, settling her head into her pillow.

As she drifted into sleep, she unconsciously licked her dry lips, hardly noting the faintest taste of elderberry on her tongue.

o-0-o-0-o-0-o

She awoke suddenly to a soft tapping on the door. Rose had no idea how long she had been dozing and groggily looked around the room, trying to find a clock. Judging by the one she saw on the wall, only a few minutes appeared to have passed. She looked around.

Still in a hospital bed. Still uncomfortable. _Just brilliant._

_What was I doing … ? Oh yes, retracing my steps._ Rose sighed, rubbing her eyes.

With a somewhat jerky motion, the door began to open, and she saw Pete's head peeking around the doorframe.

"I'm back, honey. I brought you some things from the flat."

He gave her a tentative little smile, and she returned it. He was here – real and alive and with her, and for now, that was all that mattered. _Even though this_ _might all be wrong_ … she pushed the thought from her head, forcing herself to focus on the here and now, and to be content enough just to see her dad.

Pete entered the room, his arms loaded with a large, cardboard box. Still smiling, he walked to her bedside, placing the box on the chair next to her bed. Curious, Rose looked down into the container and found that she recognized most of its contents. A stuffed bunny she'd had since she was a toddler. A pink sequined photo album from her room. A picture frame, with a picture of her mum and dad holding her as a newborn.

_I remember these from when I was a kid, _Rose thought. The picture frame still hung in her mum's flat at the Powell Estates.

_If my mum even really has a flat there … _the thought came unbidden to Rose's mind and she quashed it, immediately. Still curious, she leaned over and picked up the frame. It was exactly identical to every detail she remembered.

"That Faith girl with Doctor Smith, she said I should bring some things from home for you. That it would help with your memory."

Rose tried to ignore the involuntary flip her stomach gave at the mention of Doctor Smith's name – and the fact that he was "with" anyone, really. She tried to brush it off; she knew was being nonsensical. What right did she have to feel possessive over a total stranger? He wasn't her Doctor … _but where IS my Doctor?_ she wondered. She had no idea how to look for him. Surely he had to be searching for her, for a way to find her … _right?_

Pete plucked the items one by one from the box, setting them each carefully down on the hospital table by her bedside.

"I thought this might make you more comfortable –" Pete picked up a pink satin dressing gown from the box, and a pair of pink polka-dotted satin pajamas. She had bought them with her employee discount, one of her first purchases from –

"You got these from Henrik's, right?" Pete asked.

"Yeah…" Rose said, softly, reaching her fingers out to touch the delicate material. It had been an impulse buy – one of those things she had promised herself she would get, if she ever found work in a nice shop. She rarely wore them; still, she had brought them on the TARDIS, hadn't she? Or, had she left them at home? She couldn't remember. Everything felt so jumbled in her head. Rose closed her eyes and looked down at the blanket covering her.

Everything was so familiar to her, yet not. Even her possessions were exactly as she remembered them. Everyone seemed to know her, except differently from how she remembered them – Pete, Mickey, Doctor Smith. _Jackie_ … Rose looked up suddenly, directly at Pete.

"Dad … what happened to mum?"

Pete paused, hands hovering over the box. He glanced up at Rose, slightly surprised.

"Well … she's gone, love. She passed away when you were a baby."

Rose broke his gaze, looking away, staring down at the picture in her hand. _They looked so happy …_ she didn't want to know, she really didn't … but she needed to ask. She took a deep breath.

"How … how did she die?"

Pete sucked in a breath, eyes downcast.

"Hit and run driver. Never did find the guy. We were on our way to a wedding when you were just six months old, your mum was just coming from the car with the present and –"

"Was there anyone with her?" Rose interrupted, her voice almost breathless. God, it felt like her throat was closing up. "There must have been, right? A girl? Or a man in a leather jacket? Or …"

Pete shook his head in a silent _no_, his jaw clenching slightly at the memory. Rose swallowed hard – she hadn't meant to bring up something that was still clearly painful for him. It was simply that she had been with her first Doctor when her father died, in her arms. _That's not the sort of thing that you make up, or forget, or swap out the memory of a different parent for … I know we were there … weren't we?_

Rose hesitated, unsure of how to ask the next question that was logical to her.

"Dad … what do you think about my nurse?"

Pete startled at the apparent sudden change in topic.

"Your nurse? Well, she's nice, I suppose, she's always been kind to me …" Pete seemed a bit flustered, his eyebrows knitting together.

"No, I mean, she looks like mum. Don't you think?"

"A bit, I suppose, honey. It's a little hard to say. Your mum was so young when she died, younger than you, even. You look so much like her …" Pete looked down at her with a sad, almost wistful, smile.

"But people change as they age. Wish I could say I looked the same as I did when I was young," Pete said, patting the bald spot on top of his head, in self-deprecation.

"But, Dad –"

The door to Rose's room began to open again, and the girl with the violet eyes entered. To Rose's inexplicable disappointment, she came in alone.

"Mr. Tyler? Could you give us a moment? I just need to take out Rose's IV."

Pete nodded, glancing protectively at Rose, then back to Faith.

"I'll be just outside. Do what you have to – but I don't want her getting upset again."

Faith nodded, giving Pete an apologetic smile in promise as he turned and left the room. She then turned her attention to Rose's hand.

"So … you work with him? Doctor Smith?"

Although Rose tried to keep her tone casual, she was aware of the slightly prodding tone that had crept instinctively into her voice.

Faith raised her head abruptly, looking at Rose with a slightly surprised expression for a moment before speaking.

"Why yes. Yes, I do. Is there something you need from him?"

Something about the impassive look in Faith's expression made Rose feel slightly awkward. Like the woman was looking right through her and knew exactly what she was asking and why. It was disconcerting and made Rose feel uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden.

"I … I was just wondering, will he be in soon?"

Faith held her gaze a moment longer.

"Maybe. Can never tell with him."

Rose nodded. _Right …_

"You'll probably be discharged within the next few days. This will make you more comfortable."

As Faith bent over to detach the IV, Rose noticed a charm dangling from her necklace. It was a small jewel, intricately carved in the shape of a tightly closed flower bud. It was the color though that grabbed Rose's immediate attention – like it's wearer's eyes, it was a beautiful shade of violet.

"That's a beautiful necklace – it matches your eyes," Rose said, attempting to break the awkwardness.

Faith quickly brought her eyes up to meet Rose's, and smiled. "Thank you. It's been passed down in my family for generations. It … it … well, it represents faith."

"Faith? Like your name?"

"Exactly."

Faith held Rose's gaze just a moment longer, a small smile on her face, then dropped her eyes back down to her work.

"There. That should do it," she said brightly.

Rose looked at her hand, newly freed from the IV, and moved her fingers to test her newfound flexibility. She gave Faith a brief smile in thanks.

"I'll go see about Doctor Smith. Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?"

Rose motioned over to the cardboard box by her bedside.

"Could you just hand me that photo album? The pink one with the sequins."

Faith seemed happy to help, gingerly handing the album to Rose with a smile. Rose gently touched the sequins … she and Shireen had glued them on together … Shireen had a matching purple one, and together they'd made a blue one for Keisha for Christmas.

"There you go. Best thing for your memories. You'll be feeling better and go back home in no time at this rate."

As Faith left the room, Rose settled back into her pillows, opening the album and looking at the inscription that had been left in blue Sharpie on the back side of the cover. _Designed by Rose and Shireen, 2001. _She looked at the first page of the album and fingered the pictures of her mum and dad. There was one from their wedding, with Jackie decked out in a white lace dress and Pete looking nervous at the altar. A few of Jackie, pregnant with Rose, tenderly stroking her rounded pregnancy belly. Rose as a newborn, with her Grandpa Prentice. Two-month-old Rose in an absurdly long white gown and a frilly bonnet, at her christening. Three-month-old Rose eating jarred pears for the first time. Four-month-old Rose and Pete asleep together on the sofa. Five-month-old Rose pretending to take a drink from her father's beer bottle. All exactly as she remembered them.

Rose turned the page. She was a little older in these pictures, six, seven months old, maybe. She remembered these photos too … almost. They were so familiar to her, but jarringly brand new at the same time. All of these photos just included her and Pete– but Rose only remembered them having her mum in them.

Rose's first Christmas, sitting on Pete's lap as he held her tightly, a makeshift hat made from ribbons and bows on her head. _He looks so sad … this was just a few weeks after mum died. _

Rose taking her first steps, holding on to Pete's fingers for dear life. _I could have sworn this was taken with mum… _

Rose at her first birthday party, Pete standing proudly beside her as she smashed chocolate cake on her face. _I thought it was mum … she said she wore her favorite shirt, and it took her hours to scrub out the chocolate … right?_

_Think …_

Rose frowned. She closed the book, crossing her arms and hugging it tightly against her chest, and tucked her chin down, lost in contemplation.


	6. Chapter 6

Rose was still cradling the sequined album against her chest when Pete opened the door and reentered the room. Solemnly, she brought her eyes up to meet his. Clicking the door shut behind him, Pete eyed her protectively, hands in his jacket pockets. He slowly approached Rose's bedside, his eyes locked on hers and a serious expression on his face.

"Did everything go OK?" he asked, softly.

Rose looked up at him, her face completely blank, and nodded, her eyes wide. He looked at her hesitantly, before giving her a small smile and taking her hand in his, stroking her palm comfortingly with his thumb. He opened his mouth, searching for something to say.

"We … well, we should celebrate your recovery, don't you think? Do you fancy anything special for dinner? Chips, maybe?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," Rose said, mustering a weak smile that she didn't quite feel, for his benefit.

"Just like old times, yeah?"

Pete looked at her with a small, hopeful smile, and leaned forward to press a lingering kiss to her forehead as he gave her a quick embrace. As he got up and turned to leave, Rose had a sudden thought.

"Dad!" she called to him, just before he got to the door. "Can I borrow your mobile?"

He turned around, slightly surprised.

"Of course, love."

Pete handed her the phone with a smile and a quick kiss to the forehead, and left.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Rose sprang into action, placing the photo album in her lap and holding on to the phone with both hands, as if it were a lifeline. She quickly opened the internet browser on the mobile – she'd been through this before, and she knew exactly what she was looking for. Just as she had done right after she'd first met the Doctor, Rose searched for _Doctor _and _blue box_. She remembered the first time she had searched on the Internet for those words – it was the day after she had been attacked by living plastic in the basement of Henrik's. She had come across Clive Finch's website, and she had gone to meet him and see his collection of information and pictures about the Doctor. It was fresh in her memory, part and parcel of the most life-altering experience in her existence, and she knew she would never forget it.

But this time, when she searched for the same phrase, she found nothing.

She searched for _living_ _plastic _and _mannequins_, and got no hits. The explosion at Henrik's and her "miraculous survival," as they called it, was the only strange occurrence on March 25 of the previous year. According to Scotland Yard, there had never been a _Rose Tyler_ been listed as a missing person. She searched for _Big Ben crash_ and found nothing at all. _10 Downing Street_ never had an explosion. _Harriet Jones _existed, but was a local MP, not Prime Minister. _Adam Mitchell_ was originally from London and had a blog; judging by his posts, was apparently still working in Utah, as of a week ago. _Jack Harkness _was a Detective Inspector for the London Police, and had investigated the explosion at Henrik's – most of the articles written about his statements on the Henrik's case were by _Sarah Jane Smith_, a reporter for the Times. _Margaret Blaine _was still mayor of Cardiff, and there were no articles about a _Blaidd Drwg_ nuclear facility ever having been in the works. This past Christmas morning had involved no mass exodus of hypnotized people onto rooftops. And, as far as she could tell, there was no record of Queen Victoria performing any knighthoods in Scotland in 1879.

Again and again, no matter what she tried, no hits. _Like none of it had ever even happened_, she thought, numbly.

Rose hesitated, then tried a different tactic.

She searched for _Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Prentice Tyler_, and found an archived link to an obituary from 1987, as well as a cemetery name. A search for _Doctor John Smith Neurologist_ turned up a photo and the entire CV of the pinstriped man who had been treating her. _Her doctor …_ she thought, wryly. The two people she cared for most in the entire universe, and neither one of them apparently existed. _I need them. I'd give anything for either of them to be here right now_, she thought_._

Feeling eerily calm, she shut down the phone, and sank against her pillow. She closed her eyes tightly, taking a slow, deep breath.

There was another knock at the door, and Rose flinched –the last thing she wanted, or needed, was another visitor. But before Rose could say a word, a tall, middle-aged woman entered. She was wearing a white coat and her sandy-blonde curls were pulled back in an elegant bun at the back of her head.

There was something slightly familiar about her, but for a moment Rose couldn't place her.

"Hello, Miss Tyler, my name is Doctor O'Brien. I'm one of the physicians who has been taking care of you since your accident. We just began our rounds for the day, and I thought I'd pop in to check on you."

_I know that voice!, _Rose thought, with a start. Her eyes darted to her name tag. _Dr. Cassandra O'Brien, Plastic Surgeon, Royal Hope Hospital, London._

"You had a mild burn injury and a few lacerations when you were admitted. I performed a skin graft. Nothing to be alarmed over, I assure you," Doctor O'Brien said, with a smile, before making a note in Rose's medical chart and turning to leave the room.

Rose's eyes widened slightly, as memories of an observation deck and the Earth burning and bitchy trampolines and hospitals and psycho_-_grafts flooded her mind. _Skin graft _…_ Did Henrik's burn, not the Earth? And then, I really did come to the hospital and met Cassandra there … and I was the one who had a skin graft, not a psycho-graft … because she is actually my plastic surgeon?_

Rose paled, realizing that all the pieces seemed to fit, so perfectly. _But it was real …_

The next knock on the door was _Dr. Constantine, Internist. _He was a balding, older man with a slight paunch to his gut and an angry scar on the back of his right hand.

"I worked on your case mainly when you were first brought in. Your neurologists have always been your main doctors, though."

"Wait! You said 'neurologists' - plural?" Rose asked. _No, there is no way …_

"Yes, you had two of them. Doctor Smith, whom you've met, and another bloke, before him. He left a few months back – not sure where he went off to, he didn't leave a forwarding address. Haven't seen him since," Doctor Constantine said, shrugging.

Rose felt her stomach turn.

"Let me guess … he had big ears and a big nose?" she asked, softly.

Doctor Constantine looked surprised.

"Why, yes - how did you know?"

Rose didn't answer, instead staring numbly at her hands.

Next was _Dr. Reinette Poisson, Gynecologist. _Nice enough woman, but _good God,_ Rose thought_, you can smell her expensive French perfume from halfway down the hall. No wonder he – _

Rose immediately silenced that line of thought. _After all, maybe it didn't even happen._

The thought horrified her.

-o-o-

He was the last one to enter, of course.

She knew it would be him. She could _feel_ him, somehow, even as he stood silently on the other side of the door, before quickly rapping his knuckles to announce his presence. She didn't even bring her eyes up to meet his, her gaze focused instead on his dusty white trainers as they crossed the floor to her bedside.

_Him … and yet not him_, she thought. She could feel him standing there and she knew, just _knew _deep down in the core of her being, that his hands were buried in his pockets, and that his brows were furrowed just so as he stood there, looking down at her. She could feel his gaze – well, _not-him's_ gaze, anyway. She knew it wasn't the same man – couldn't be the same man_. But still, _she thought, _I have to try._

She looked up at him then, catching the sympathetic glance she knew would be on his face.

"Mind if I borrow your stethoscope?" she said, weakly. _God, he must think I'm a nutter for this …_

Wordlessly, almost somberly, he removed it from around his neck and handed it to her.

She'd seen this done on the telly hundreds of times before, and she herself had used a stethoscope on her Doctor right after his regeneration, the time she'd only found one heartbeat. _It's not that hard to do, I'll just do it the same way I did it before, _she thought, as she put it on and brought the metal disk to rest against his chest.

His brows furrowed slightly as he looked down at how she had the stethoscope firmly pressed against his torso. Her thumb was pressing down on the bell at the back of the metal disk she held to his chest. He briefly thought of correcting her, to let her know that her technique was poor and that, although having one's thumb over the bell was a common mistake among amateurs, it meant that she was far more likely to hear her own heartbeat echoing from the deep palmar arch artery near her thumb than to hear anything going on in his chest.

But he thought the better of it, letting her continue.

Rose sighed. _One heartbeat,_ she thought. She slowly lowered the stethoscope from his chest and removed it from her ears, handing it back to him without looking him in the eyes. She could _sense_ him staring at her, she _knew _he was looking at her.

_Say something!_ she thought.

"I just … I just wanted to say –"

Something caught in the back of Rose's throat, choking back the end of the sentence. She looked down at the blanket covering her, unable to meet Doctor Smith's sympathetic gaze. _Sorry_. _How can I say sorry? I've been with you for two years! I spent every waking minute with you. We saved each others' lives countless times. I lo-_

"Rose," he whispered as he sat down on the edge of her bed, taking her hand in his.

_I loved every minute of it._

"When can I go home?" she said, eyes flicking up to meet his.

"Home?" he said softly, holding her hand tighter. His eyes were fixed on her own, and he looked at her intently – almost sadly, she thought.

She shrugged, dropping her eyes back to the blanket as she shuddered out an exhalation.

"Back to my Dad's flat, I suppose," she whispered, laying back down on her pillow and turning to face the wall.


	7. Chapter 7

Doctor Smith slowly exited Rose's hospital room, his head down and his eyes fixed on his trainers. Rose had looked so resigned when he left her - defeated, even. He hadn't known what to say to her, and she certainly didn't seem to have anything else to say to him. He had simply stood up and walked out of the room, not even daring to look back as the door shut behind him. She had been lying curled, facing a wall, turned away from him - _have I done that to her?_

He didn't let himself answer that question.

He remained lost in contemplation until the soft sound of someone clearing their throat roused him from his thoughts.

Looking up, his jaw clenched perceptibly to find Faith waiting in the hallway, leaning back against the wall, arms and ankles crossed. He couldn't help the stony glare that crept into his eyes.

"I told you to wait for me," she said, almost casually, as she came to a standing position.

Her tone was soft, and although it would have been imperceptible to most people, he was aware of the visible annoyance in her eyes. Something began to snap inside him.

"You seem to forget who I am," he said sternly, placing his hands casually in his pockets.

Faith's eyebrows raised momentarily in surprise at his statement, as if he were a mere child making a ridiculously amusing claim. Steadily holding his gaze, her expression soon hardened into a glare.

"I believe it's you who is forgetting your place, _Doctor Smith._"

She slowly took a step closer to him, and while her voice dropped to a whisper, the edge that had crept into her tone remained firmly in place.

"None of this is my doing. _None of it_. I'm not even supposed to _be _here. You'd do well to remember that I'm doing you a favor, Doctor Smith.

"Ohhh, I'd hardly call this a favor."

His gaze remained cold and steady into her own, belieing the anger swelling up in his was practiced in keeping his voice steady - a trait that had taken him a very long time to develop, but one that had served him well. He could fool most everyone.

Faith paused, reflectively. Her eyes were riveted onto his own, and she seemed almost to judge him. After a moment, her gaze began to soften.

"You need be patient. All in due time, Doctor Smith."

"That's not good enough."

"It will have to be good enough. Do your job, and I'll do mine."

His eyes fell to the silver chain around her neck, the small stone it held sparkling slightly under the hospital's fluorescent lights. Faith bristled visibly under his stare, and continued glaring at him as his eyes finally flicked up to meet her own.

"Oh, I always do mine."

ooooo0o0o0o0ooooo

It had been a fitful night's sleep for Rose. Whether it had been made better or worse by the fact that Doctor Smith hadn't come by again, she didn't know. At every knock on the door, she'd steel herself up and think _he's the last person I want to see _- but when the visitor would invariably end up being a nurse who had come by to simply take her vital signs, Rose would be inexplicably disappointed.

Shakily, Rose grabbed the rail of her hospital bed and slowly pulled herself up to a standing position. She _had _to get herself together. Whatever was going on - even if her memories of the past two years were just a coma-induced fantasy - she had to get to the bottom of it. There was still so much that she didn't understand - or remember. Rose knew she probably should have waited for Jackie to come help her out of bed for the first time, but she could hear Jackie and Pete talking in the hall outside her room, the sounds of their laughter only partially muffled by the walls. She hadn't wanted to disturb them – they seemed so happy getting to know each other over the past day and a half.

Rose wasn't sure what to expect from her body now – a body she thought until a couple of days ago was toned and fit from constant … _well, nevermind that now,_ she thought. What must the state of her body be in now, after two years in a coma? Hesitantly, she released the rail of the bed and stood, for the first time, alone on her own two feet, and waited to see how her body would respond. Her muscles felt a little achy, as if they hadn't stretched in a while. _Other than that_, she thought, as she flexed her back and rolled her neck, _I feel surprisingly_ –

Outside her room, a peal of Jackie's flirtatious laughter rang out.

Just as well they're not here, Rose thought, glancing over at the bedside clock. _I've got matters to attend to._

She reached for the bedside phone.

ooooo0o0o0o0ooooo

An hour later, there was a quick rap at Rose's door. It opened slowly, and this time, Rose knew exactly whom to expect.

"Hello, Rose, I'm Sarah Jane Smith from the Times –"

Rose smiled broadly, in welcome.

"Yes, I'm so glad you could come. Thank you for coming in to see me on such short notice," Rose said, still smiling, steadying herself on the edge of her bed and slowly lowering herself down to sit.

"Of course, I definitely wanted to speak with you," Sarah Jane said, with a soft smile. "And how are you recovering, dear?"

"Oh quite well," Rose said, and then paused. "The medical staff here has been excellent. Have you, um – have you met my doctor?"

Sarah Jane nodded quickly. "Yes, I believe I did, after you were admitted."

"So not before then?" Rose asked.

Sarah Jane looked at her quizzically. "No, why would I -"

"Nevermind," Rose said, shaking her head. She felt oddly calm as she swallowed down the last tiny bit of disappointment she thought she could possibly feel. _No matter what, _Rose thought, _I still have a job to do - I still have to figure out what happened to me. _She took a deep breath and gave Sarah Jane Smith another broad smile.

"Right then. So Miss Smith, please tell me everything you know about me, and this explosion at Henrik's."


End file.
